Published November 9, 2012
War On Terra
So it turns out that General David Petraeus has a pee-pee.
Certainly not I. I figured the thing had been whacked off, long ago.
Isn’t that what they do, when you go into the military? Grab the pee-pee and whack it right off?
They should. You enter the military, you have chosen to act as an agent of death. So no sex for you, bub.
Eros doesn’t want you. You’re a Thanatos boy.
So: so sorry. But it’s off with the little head. Them’s the breaks. But it was your choice.
At least Petraeus didn’t say he was resigning “to spend more time with my family.” Neither did he tell the truth: “I plan to loll around drinking great buckets of blood.” Which is what he’s good at.
Below is a photo documenting a hideous Dr. Moreau-like experiment in which some demented doctor sought to cross a human with a turtle and a scrotum. The result: Mitch McConnell—Senate minority leader, five-star glow-in-the-dark racist, de facto head of the Confederate States of America, the de-evolved retrovert obstructionist who called together the CSA faithful in the days after Barack Obama was elected president in 2008 to announce that CSA policy would be to oppose absolutely anything and everything proposed by the black man, up to and including nominating Jesus H. Christ to sit on the US Supreme Court. Because Obama had the effrontery to be a black man moving into the White House.
I look at that picture, and all I can think is that any political party that permits such a bodacious butt-ugly to occupy a position of prominence should be abolished, and any nation where he so serves is doomed.
That is all.